


加一点心 (got me in my fillings)

by shuijing



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cooking, Drabble, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, i wrote this as self care lmao, jaemle is very briefly implied, set in some indeterminate time where renjun has dj activities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25363690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuijing/pseuds/shuijing
Summary: "Renjun-hyung," comes Jisung's voice. Renjun doesn't turn around. Maybe if he doesn't look at him, he'll cease to exist. If a dongsaeng calls your name and you pretend not to witness it, does he actually make a sound?"Hyung." Jisung falls dramatically over the arm of the couch, inching forward so he can rest his chin on Renjun's thigh and peer up at him. "Cook something for me? Please?"
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Park Jisung
Comments: 22
Kudos: 160





	加一点心 (got me in my fillings)

**Author's Note:**

> the english title is lame but i need to explain the chinese title: it directly translate to "add a little heart/love" as in, adding the ingredient of love, but also "little heart" has the same characters as dimsum. not that that's any less lame but it made me laugh at least

"Hyung. _Hyung._ "

Renjun ignores him, eyes stubbornly trained on his iPad. This art tutorial video was just lulling him into that blissful state of half-wakefulness, only to be disrupted by Jisung's voice coming from the direction of the rooms. He chases the tail end of that sleepiness, the orange and white watercolour koi on his screen slipping out of focus as he almost dozes off again.

"Renjun-hyung," comes Jisung's voice, louder this time, closer. Renjun still doesn't turn around. Maybe if he doesn't look at him, he'll cease to exist. If a dongsaeng calls your name and you pretend not to witness it, does he actually make a sound?

"Hyung." Jisung falls dramatically over the arm of the couch, inching forward so he can rest his chin on Renjun's thigh and peer up at him. Renjun finally spares him a completely deadpan look, but he seems undeterred. "Cook something for me? Please?"

"Go and bother Jaeminnie into cooking for you," Renjun says. The artist is now painting in a lilypad. He wishes he could feel as zen as this painting's vibes.

Jisung whines, burying his nose in the fabric of Renjun's shorts. "I already tried. He locked himself and Chenle in his room, and I don't want to know what they're doing in there."

At that, Renjun finally pauses the video, snickering a little. "Are you jealous?"

"No," Jisung mutters, but when Renjun leans closer to check, he's pouting. Renjun properly laughs at that, irritation at his interrupted micro-nap dissipating. Their maknae is so cute when he's sulky. He hums, considering; he _is_ feeling a bit hungry, and given that this is one of the only free days he has without any practice or radio schedule, he should probably do something more productive than watching videos and letting his brain rot.

"Alright, get off me," he says, jabbing Jisung's forehead with a finger. He scrambles up into a sitting position, brightening considerably. "So that's a yes? You'll cook something? I'm starving."

"Let's see what's in the fridge first." Renjun puts his iPad aside, standing up and wandering into the kitchen. "If there's nothing good I'm just going to order kimchi jjigae."

Jisung's dismayed call of "But we already had kimchi jjigae last night!" goes ignored. There's half a carton of milk and some cabbage in the refrigerator, which really doesn't make for a productive meal, but he strikes gold when he opens the freezer and is greeted by the dumplings that Chenle brought with him from home, along with an airtight bag of dumpling wrappers. He could just steam the ready-made dumplings, but he wants to make Jisung work for it, somewhat.

"Let's make dumplings," Renjun suggests. Jisung comes up behind him, looking down—yes, down, he is _taller than the refrigerator_ —into the freezer. " _Make_ dumplings? Why can't we just eat the ones Chenle made?"

"Come on, it'll be fun!" Renjun says, not quite believing his own words. This could turn out be a disaster, but he's been making dumplings since his fingers were deft enough to pleat the wrappers, so hopefully he'll be able to salvage it. He hip-checks Jisung out of the way, grabbing the wrappers and cabbage out, then setting the wrappers aside to thaw. 

"Here, wash this," he says, handing the vegetables to Jisung. The younger boy still looks doubtful, but he accepts the cabbage anyway, bringing it to the sink. Renjun scours a knife and chopping board from somewhere, starting to dice the garlic and onion.

"Er, you just wash this with water, right? No detergent, or anything?" Jisung asks, hand hovering uncertainly above the bottle of dish-washing liquid at the side of the sink.

Renjun takes a moment to process the fact that Jisung even asked this. Perhaps they won't be as fine as he thought. "Don't ask me stupid questions while I have a knife in my hand."

"I _knew_ , okay, I was just checking!" Jisung defends himself, but he meekly retracts his hand. The sound of running water fills the kitchen, and Renjun loses himself in the white noise, in the rhythmic motion of chopping. He likes cooking because of the end result, but he also appreciates how relaxing it is, especially when cooking something so familiar.

He leaves the chopped garlic and onions to the side as he beckons Jisung over. "Here, mince the cabbage."

"Are we sure we trust me with that?"

"Hyung is right here, you're not going to cut yourself," Renjun says, and that somehow does seem to make Jisung more confident. He starts chopping it, clumsy and slow, fumbling a little when the leaves start falling apart. 

"It's easier when you turn it to this side, see?" Renjun advises, placing his hands over Jisung's and guiding him gently. Jisung's hands are so much bigger than his own, and putting his hands on top just dwarfs them even more in comparison. Renjun knows Jisung notices this, too, because he murmurs a barely audible, "Cute," under his breath. He resists the urge to roll his eyes, if only because he's directing a very sharp knife. Still, his fingers are far more practised despite their size, and his little tip helps Jisung go faster. Jisung makes a soft happy noise when he finishes mincing, and Renjun's heart tumbles in his chest. He reaches up and tugs at Jisung's ear, cooing, "Good job, Jisungie."

"Ah, _hyung_ ," Jisung shies away, and Renjun wonders how he doesn't realise his protests only make it harder not to coddle him.

Renjun grabs a frying pan and pours some oil on it, Jisung flinching as the stove ignites with a _pop._ Before long the oil is hot enough to add the onion and garlic. A fragrant smell fills the kitchen as they sizzle in the pan, and Renjun's stomach actually growls softly. Maybe he's more hungry than he thought. He adds the cabbage, salivating at the promise of warm dumplings in their near future.

Off the stove goes the pan, in the pan goes the vinegar, salt and black pepper. Renjun eyes the measurements and Jisung tuts at him for it, but he actually looks a little impressed by his level of expertise with this recipe. 

"Now for the fun part," Renjun says, taking the pan to the kitchen table. "Can you get the wrappers from the fridge?"

Jisung obediently gets it for him while Renjun brings the steamer tier, a bowl of water and two tablespoons to the table. He hands one to Jisung, demonstrating by scooping a decent spoonful of filling and placing it in one of the wrappers. 

"See, the key is to not—" He says, just as Jisung dumps a tower of filling into his own wrapper. "—To put too much."

"Oh." Jisung says, looking at the obvious difference in size. Renjun laughs, taking about half of the filling away and putting it on another wrapper. "Oops."

"It's okay, you can just recycle it," Renjun says. He dips his fingers in the water, moistening the outside of the wrapper, then pleats it quickly, habit taking hold of his fingers. Jisung's eyes blow wide at the finished product. "You can just fold yours in half and seal it with water."

"Wait, no, I wanna learn! Teach me," Jisung says, wetting the wrapper like Renjun had done and looking back at him expectantly. Renjun shakes his head, but indulges him anyways, taking the other wrapper and repeating the pleat technique slowly. Jisung studies his fingers intently and attempts to copy him, but he gets too enthusiastic and pokes a hole through the wrapper instead. Renjun bursts out laughing while he stares at it, dismayed.

"Don't laugh!" Jisung whines. "What do I do now..."

"Sorry, sorry," Renjun stifles his giggles. He takes out another two wrappers from the bag. "Hyung will eat that one, it's okay. We can try again. Slower this time, don't go too fast before you get used to it."

Tablespoon of filling, wet fingers tracing the edges, kneading the dough into pleats. The routine is so familiar he could do it with his eyes closed. If he did, he's sure, the sleepy silence of the dorm would fade away, replaced by the low murmur of that _wuxia_ show his grandfather loves so much playing on the television in the next room, birdsong filtering in from the open window, his grandmother talking to him, calling him _darling grandson_. And if he opened his eyes again, he would be in Jilin, sunlight stroking the back of his nape, stomach full of candied sweet potato instead of kimchi, hands preoccupied while he schemes all the ways he can trick his cousins into bringing him to swim in the river before the sun sets.

"Did you make dumplings a lot back in China?" Jisung asks, like he can read his mind.

"Mm, but not at home. At my grandparents' house," Renjun tells him. "In spring, before Lunar New Year. The whole family would be there, and my grandma had all my cousins and me make them with her. And in the summer, when I didn't have school and we were visiting. Sometimes one or two of my cousins were there too, but usually it was just me and her. She still makes them and gives it to my parents when I visit home. I haven't seen her in a while."

Jisung is silent for a moment, then he says, "Thanks for teaching me how to make them."

"It's fun, right?" Renjun smiles at him. "I told you so."

The amount of filling Renjun made is considerably less than what his grandmother makes for Lunar New Year, so they're finished much quicker than the two-hour affair Renjun is used to, though it might only take that long because his cousins keep yelling at each other and his grandmother has to keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't sneak away and steal some _tanghulu_ from the refrigerator. In the steamer tier, the difference between Renjun's perfectly pleated dumplings and Jisung's uneven ones is obvious, but Jisung got better as they continued. The pleating is clumsy, but good for someone doing it for the first time. Renjun tells him as much, and he pretends he's not glowing from the praise.

Renjun pours some water into the steamer before turning it on and setting the timer. Jisung is hovering by the sink, frowning. "How much longer do we have to wait?" He complains. "I'm even hungrier now."

"They need to steam for ten minutes," Renjun says, hoisting himself up to sit on the counter next to the sink. 

"Ten minutes!" Jisung exclaims. "But that's too long!"

"I don't know," Renjun says, tilting his head so his hair falls over his eyes in a way he knows looks pretty, "I can think of plenty to do in ten minutes."

"Like?"

Renjun doesn't know whether to laugh or sigh. He reaches out, fisting his hand in Jisung's shirt, and pulls him close. This close, he can see the flush rising just under the skin of his cheeks, count his paint stroke lashes, hear the smallest hitch in his breath when he realises what Renjun meant. "Like this," Renjun mumbles, and then they're kissing.

Being seated on the counter means he's actually just the slightest bit taller than Jisung is standing, and having to cup his face and tilt his chin upwards just a little makes something in his blood fizzle in delight. Jisung's hands settle on the counter, bracketing him in, but he breaks away to shake his head. Spreading his legs, he guides Jisung to stand in between his knees, then his hands to rest on his waist. There, perfect. He hums in satisfaction, winding his arms around Jisung's neck and leaning in again.

Kissing Jisung is a little bit like making dumplings: soothing but exciting, so familiar he could do it in the dark. It's also nothing like that; making dumplings is China and his childhood neatly wrapped in a circle of dough, kissing Jisung is the buzz of landing in Korea and holding his dream cupped in the palms of his hands. Jisung licks into his mouth and thunder crashes in his chest. Renjun teases Jisung's lip with his teeth and there is lightning tingling in the tips of his fingers. It mirrors the anticipatory dizziness he feels just as they go on stage, except he can let himself fall.

As Renjun often forgets, making out makes time pass faster than it should. It feels like he just closed his eyes and leaned in, but the timer dings, startling Jisung so bad he would have fallen backwards if not for Renjun's arms around his neck. 

"Already?" Jisung says almost unthinkingly. Renjun can't resist laughing. "I thought you were hungry?" He teases.

"I am! But, but that was..." Jisung says, trailing off. Renjun raises his eyebrows, and it seems to make him shy, because he averts his eyes and changes the subject. "It was weird not having to tilt my head down to kiss you. My neck really appreciated it."

"Ah, this brat," Renjun rolls his eyes, raising his fist half-heartedly. "See if you care about the state of your neck after I'm done beating up the rest of you."

"Can we at least eat the dumplings before we go up to the rooftop?" 

"I thought you wanted to continue kissing! Make up your mind!"

"But I can smell the dumplings now," Jisung pouts. "And they smell so _good._ "

Renjun can admit, they really do. As much as kissing Jisung is addictive, his stomach is really protesting at him now that his senses are preoccupied and the fragrance of freshly steamed dumplings is wafting in the air. Renjun rolls his eyes again, just to be difficult, but he nudges Jisung away and hops off the counter. With a dishcloth, he takes the tier off the steamer, bringing it over to the kitchen table before opening the lid. The dumplings inside are just slightly translucent, the skin glistening in the light. Jisung sits down eagerly with chopsticks in hand and they pick a dumpling each, tapping them against each other in cheers before taking a bite.

"Oh my God," Jisung says, awed. He stuffs the other half of the dumpling in his mouth, making his cheeks puff out cutely. "Oh my God, this is delicious."

"I know," Renjun agrees, following Jisung's example and popping the rest in his mouth. The filling soft and savoury, the dumpling skin chewy, and the vinegar adds an extra kick. When Renjun goes back to China, he's going to treat his grandmother to a grand dinner for teaching him the recipe. "Hold on, I'm gonna get some chili oil, this is too good."

"Okay, now I'm kinda glad Jaemin locked me out," Jisung says happily in between dumplings. Renjun pauses. "Should we leave some for him and Chenle?"

He and Jisung look at each other, then say in unison, "No."

They finish the dumplings by themselves. He can taste it lingering in Jisung's mouth afterwards, which is gross, but definitely worth it to see Jaemin and Chenle's faces when they come out of Jaemin's room only to find out Renjun and Jisung have not only eaten the dumplings they were lured outside by, but also, they're making out at the kitchen table. Maybe Renjun is also a little glad Jaemin locked his door.

**Author's Note:**

> do not ask me why chenle brought dumpling wrappers to the dream dorm i just didn't want rensung to spend hours labouring over the dough GHDSJHJD
> 
> yeah i wrote this just for the image of renjun making out with jisung while on a counter
> 
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